Closure
by Allyson Kat
Summary: Steve needs to get some closure with Peggy Carter. Post-Avengers. Equal parts Steve/Peggy and Steve/Maria. Semi-fluffy.


**Steve needs some closure with Peggy before he can move on. I have this headcanon that he falls for Agent Hill because she reminds him so much of Peggy and he has a type. Let me know what you think!**

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Steve shielded his eyes from the sun, staring up at the building and checking the address one more time. Before stepping inside the doors, he checked himself over in the reflection of the glass. He held a bouquet of roses in his fist and paced in front of the doors.

"You goin' in or what, buddy?" An old man glowered up at Steve and Steve stepped aside to allow the man into the building.

What was he even doing here? He should just go back to the Stark Tower and... and what? Then what would he do with these flowers? They'd been overpriced but he'd bought them anyway because that was the right thing to do. Waste of money if he didn't at least go up and leave them on her doorstep.

He opened the door, letting the air-conditioned coolness wash over his body. He hadn't even realized how hot it was outside. He wiped sweat off his brow; he'd assumed it was just from the nerves. Most of it probably was.

Would Peggy even remember him after all this time?

"Um, hi," he cleared his throat, interrupting a conversation. "Do... um, well, are any of you neighbors with, uh, Peggy Carter?" The two shared a look, shaking their heads.

"If by Peggy Carter, you mean Peggy Wilcox, then yes," a voice called from across the room. A middle-aged man smiled warmly. "Think her maiden name was Carter, though. British hellcat of an old woman?" Steve smiled nervously and nodded. "She lives across the hall from me. Tenth floor. Room A-5."

"Thanks, sir," Steve nodded graciously, headed for the elevator. How old would she be? She must be over ninety now. Still living on her own? Well, he laughed to himself, if any woman was going to be old and still insisting on leading their own life, it would be Peggy. She had certainly never needed anybody to take care of her before. People don't change _that_ much.

Before he knew it, he was pacing back and forth on her doormat.

_Just ring the doorbell, idiot_, a voice shouted in his mind. The voice had taken on the form of Agent Hill's and Steve remembered briefly why he was doing this. He fumbled for a doorbell before realizing that she didn't have one, so he just knocked. Hearing no movement on the other side of the door, he knocked louder. Suddenly the door swung open.

"What?" She shouted. Her eyes widened. Her hair was grayed and shorter than he remembered it. She hobbled with a walker and her knuckles were bony where they gripped the device. But her eyes were the same big, beautiful brown. "S-steve?"

"I, uh, brought these," he held out the flowers to her. Tears gathered in her eyes and she shook her head. "May I come in? I can put them in a vase if you like-"

"I thought you were dead!" She cried out. "Seventy years, I've waited for you! I thought you had _died_ when you put that plane in the water! I saw you on the television the other day and I couldn't believe it."

"SHIELD kept me a secret," the embarrassed Captain rubbed the back of his neck, "sort of."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I only woke up a year or two ago," Steve answered. Peggy moved out of the doorway and Steve stood there, staring at his feet.

"Are you coming in or what, son?" She smirked at her cleverness. _Son._ "I must say, you've aged well. You look good for an old man." Steve snickered to himself, stepping inside and closing the door after him. "My god, you look younger than my kids! Younger than my kids' kids!" She reached out to touch his arm, as though checking to see if he was real. "Help an old woman out, go get one of the vases out of that cupboard over there. You can put the flowers in that. Beautiful flowers, by the way."

"Couldn't have come without them," Steve shrugged, reaching for a vase and filling it up in her sink. "So, we've got a little bit of catching up to do, I think." Peggy smiled genuinely, hobbling over to he couch and wincing as she eased herself onto the cushions.

"Arthritis," she explained. "From what I gather, you've made some new friends your own age. Stopping villains just like in older times."

"I don't understand this generation," he rolled his eyes up to stare at her ceiling. Anywhere but at her. He wasn't sure he was ready to face her yet.

"Captain," her voice jogged him from his thoughts. He looked at her eyes. At least they hadn't changed, though it seemed everything else had. "Why did you really come here?"

"I needed closure," he answered honestly. "We never did get that dance."

"I'm afraid we never may, sonny," Peggy's eyes gleamed again. Steve chuckled to himself, staring at his polished shoes. "These bones are a little too old for dancing, unfortunately."

"Hear you found a good dance partner, though," Steve looked up at her eyes. Peggy smiled.

"Marvin Wilcox was a scientist for MI-6. Marv was a great man. We had three kids."

"Two boys and a girl," Steve nodded. "I read your file."

"Marvin died two years ago."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Peggy waved him off, leaning further back into the cushions. "He lived a long life. He was ninety-four."

"What do your kids do?" Peggy's eyes lit up at the topic change.

"William is a surgeon now. Getting close to retiring, though. His son Henry is finishing medical school this year. He'll be a surgeon just like his father."

"Good for them," Steve smiled warmly.

"Thomas runs a bakery back in London. His daughter Lily got married this past year, and his other girl Sophia is due to have a baby in September."

"Wow," Steve's eyebrows shot up and he stared at his shoes again.

"Elizabeth was always our little academic; she's a professor at Amherst College now. Never married but had one little girl, Deena. Dee just got into Tufts Medical School."

"Sounds like you're very proud of them," Steve smiled.

"I am," Peggy sighed. "But I always wonder how different things would've been if-" she broke off. When he looked up, she was staring at the coffee table.

"Me, too," Steve said suddenly.

"You must have found someone by now," Peggy started.

"Eh, not really," Steve shrugged bashfully. He looked up to find Peggy's eyebrows raised in disbelief. He laughed and shook his head. "Not really."

"But partially," Peggy grinned. "Tell me about her."

"She's an agent, too. Sort of reminds me of you-"

"-in better days," Peggy interrupted. "Sorry, continue."

"She's really pretty. Swell girl."

"She'd have to be to get your attention," Peggy winked at him. Steve gave her a genuine grin.

"Doesn't really notice me, though. I think she's a little too into her job. And interested in men who aren't, you know, her grandpa's age."

"What's her name?"

"Maria."

"Do me a favor, Steve," Peggy leaned forward again. "Take Maria out dancing for me. Would you do that?" Steve gulped and nodded. "Good," Peggy sat back again and closed her eyes. "You make sure to do that. For me."

"Dancing nowadays is a little... _different_ than what I'm used to." Steve admitted. Peggy barked out a harsh laugh.

"You don't say," her eyes twinkled. "I here there are still a few decent places to take a woman out, though."

"Still never learned," Steve mumbled.

"You will," Peggy sighed. "I'm a little tired, Steve. It's my nap time. Would you mind-?"

"Of course," Steve stood, offering a hand to Peggy. She pushed his arm away and hoisted herself up to her walker, hobbling towards her bedroom.

"Thanks for the visit, Steve," Peggy paused.

"No, thank _you_," Steve smiled. He leaned in to kiss the top of her gray head. Peggy smiled warmly.

"Don't forget to take Maria out for a dance."

"I won't," Steve nodded solemnly. "I promise."

"Keep good on that promise," Peggy warned again. "I think you can find the door." Steve smiled. "Goodbye, Steve."

"Bye, Peggy."

Two weeks later, Peggy Carter Wilcox was dead. Steve cried when he saw her name in the obituaries and all the Avengers accompanied him to her funeral. As they left, Maria Hill tapped him on the shoulder.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry about your friend," she told him in her clipped, professional tone. Only her blue eyes showed any real remorse, as the rest of her face was as cold and composed as usual.

"She lived a good life," Steve shuffled his feet. "Glad I got to talk to her before she passed on, though."

"I'm glad you did, too," Maria touched his arm comfortingly. The Captain suddenly had goosebumps all over. He remembered the promise he'd made to Peggy when he'd seen her.

"She was the last of them left," Steve confessed.

"I'm sorry," Agent Hill repeated.

"I sort of, uh, made her a promise when I went to see her a few weeks ago," Steve's heart picked up. He wasn't sure he could do this. Agent Hill's burning blue eyes were on him and he remarked at how different they were from Peggy's blazing brown ones. But they had the same fire in them. The same courage. The same depth.

"Are you going to tell me what that promise was?" Agent Hill asked suddenly. Steve ran his hands through his hair. He could really use a haircut, he thought.

"She made me promise," he took a deep breath, "to take a pretty dame out for a dance in lieu of our missed... date... seventy years ago."

"That's nice," Agent Hill nodded, her voice softening a fraction, though Steve couldn't tell if there was any real softness behind it. He nodded back, and the brown-haired Agent smiled and turned to walk away.

"Agent Hill?" He asked. She paused and turned around.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Do you want to go out dancing sometime?"


End file.
